Suicide, Death, and Love, Oh My!
by old-man-wintergreen-paw
Summary: In this story Vaughn and Sark have switched places.


Sydney cringed as the last of the poison trickled down her throat. "This poison has its effect in one minute, so how about that formula?"

Vaughn stared down at her with a cruel gleam in his eyes. Sark

was being held by his hands behind his back and was watching her with tears streaming down his cheeks. When he saw the poison start to work, he let out a loud wail and strained at the men, who let him free unusually easily.

"Sydney! Sydney!" Sark screamed as he rushed over to her. He undid the straps that were holding her to the chair, but before he could do anything else, there was a gunshot, and he fell to the ground. One of the men who had been holding him was now holding a gun, and he looked down at Sark.

Sark. He was lying on the floor gasping for breath. Blood was streaming from his neck. That was where he had been shot. The neck.

Sydney's blood was turning to fire and her throat was closing up. She was finding it harder and harder to breath. Soon she was so breathless and weak that she couldn't even keep herself upright in the chair. Sark had stopped gasping, and for all she knew he could be dead. And soon, she would be, too.

Sark began gasping again, as he started to bleed into his lungs. Sydney stared at him with tears in her eyes. She was too weak to even cry out.

When Sark stopped gasping for the second time, Sydney knew that something was wrong. She summoned up enough strength so that she could go over to him. She pressed her lips against his with the last of her strength, before passing out. Unconscious. Dead.

"Oh, shut up," Sark snapped. He saw the hurt look in Marshall's eyes. "We all know how to use your gadgets already. They take pictures, they scramble codes, we know it all already!" He continued.

"Well, alright then. Guess I'm done," Marshall said sadly. He grabbed a tissue out of the box on the table and wiped his eyes. Dixon and Mel, who were sitting next to him, put their arms around him. Mel even gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek, but even that didn't help. Sark could just barely catch some of what Marshall was saying:

"I-I just did-didn't know that I w-was so b-oring." Marshall had his face in his hands and Mel gave Sark a look of hatred.

Mel. She had been here at the CIA for six years since Sydney had died. Sark had loved her since he first saw her, but he also hated himself for actually being able to replace Sydney. She always had her flowing brunette hair in her face, and Sark wanted nothing more than to pull it out of her face and look into her gentle, hazel eyes. To gently caress her soft cheeks with his thumbs. But Mel hated him, and she was never going to change her mind about that.

Unfortunatley, another new member of SD-6 DID like him, and he liked her too. But just as a friend. Jae had been Sark's friend since Sydney had died, and he appreciated it. But she liked him in a different way; she LOVED him. She always tried to arrange a date for them, was always trying to kiss him, but she wouldn't understand that he just wanted to be friends.

"What have you got to say for yourself?"

Mel was towering over Sark. After the meeting, Dixon had taken over with Marshall, and Mel had decided that it was time that she should begin her daily routine of yelling at Sark, which he didn't mind all that much. Jae was the only one who understood.

That night was the first night since Sydney had died that Sark was actually able to fall asleep. But because of the dream that he had, he wished that he had not been able to fall asleep.

"Julian! Julian!" It was Sydney. They were on the street. In a city. Sark was around the corner. Sydney was in front of a jewelry store. "Come on, Julian. We need to find a perfect ring for the wedding!" Sark was carrying an old ring, running for Sydney.

Sark couldn't take it anymore. Just knowing that he and Sydney could have gotten married if she hadn't had died was to much to bear. But he couldn't wake up. He stayed dreaming.

"Coming!" Sark ran up to Sydney and before they entered the jewelry store, he gave her a kiss on the top of the head.

"AAAAAGH!" Sark cried out, waking himself up. He continued crying like this, until his neighbor came and knocked on the door. He didn't come down, and he continued to cry. The door was unlocked so the neighbor, Ms. Kaimen, came up to his room anyway.

Sark couldn't take it anymore. He ran across his six-story high apartment, got to the window in the kitchen, and looked down. He wanted to jump for all his life, to wrap his arms around her again, to feel her lips against his again.

He felt arms around his waist, pulling him back from the window. It was Ms. Kaimen, and she pulled him back and took him outside she dragged him into the car and they drove off.

Sark battered at the car doors, trying to break free and jump out. He wanted to stand in front of the truck behind them with his eyes closed. Waiting. Waiting, for Sydney.

The car stopped. Out side was a ratty old black building, and Ms. Kaimen pulled him in. He was flung into a chair. Then he realized something. He had Sydney already. Inside him. He didn't need to kill himself.

"SYDNEY! SYDNEY! OH MY GOD, SYDNEY!" There before him, stood a woman with brown, shoulder-length hair, and who was wearing a red t-shirt and blue jeans. She smiled so big at him, he became afraid that she was going to break her face.

It was Sydney. Standing there. Alive. But he was strapped to a chair, being tortured. Because he couldn't run up and hold her in his arms, he couldn't run up and kiss her like he needed to.

They slammed Sydney into another chair. Sark watched in horror as they slid a needle into her neck. She clenched her teeth with pain, and let out a little wail. Sark strained at the straps on his chair, and they let go of him.

He ran over to Sydney and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.


End file.
